Why and How
by lilangelstar
Summary: Donna thinks and reflects.


TITLE: Why and How?  
AUTHOR: Laura lilangelstarz@hotmail.com  
SUMMARY: Donna thinks and reflects.  
ARCHIVE: Go for your life :)  
FEEDBACK: Is more then welcome.  
NOTES: I wrote this as I was listening to a variety of songs, ranging from pop to rock to rap, and it was written in about 10 minutes, so it's not my best work. But I wanted to share, see what people thought. Hopefully, you will like :)  
  
  
  
Sometimes I just feel like I'm nowhere and everywhere at the same time. I don't know why that is, and sometimes I feel like I have no control over what happens in my life. Dr. Freeride is the best example. Why did I have to say yes when he asked me on that first date? Why did I agree to drop my education to support him?? And the biggest why - why did he turn out to be an arsehole?  
  
Then we have the more recent whys - why did Josh agree to hire me? Why do I put up with his shit? And why - why, why why - do I love this man more than life itself?  
Short answer - I don't know. Long answer - I really don't know. All I know is I have no control.  
  
I couldn't help Josh with his guilt over Joanie. Yes, I did find out about that. A late night session with Leo, on the campaign trail.  
  
I couldn't help Josh when his father died - I didn't know what to do.  
  
And more recently, I couldn't help Josh deal with Rosslyn. I didn't see him falling, until it was too late - and he had pieces of glass embedded in his hand.  
  
No one saw it, but we all should have. It's Josh, how did we not see him retreating inside himself and shutting himself off from the world? How could I have let him fall that far?  
  
Now it may be too late. Leo forced him to see Stanley - it's too early to tell whether it's helping or not. God please, please, let Stanley help him. Josh needs to be Josh. But I'm not sure that he remembers how to be - I'm not even sure that people around here remember that Josh.   
  
I do. I remember everything about the way he used to be. From the earliest time, when he handed me his pass in the offices of New Hampshire to times just past, when we would banter backwards and forwards, and the grin - gorgeous dimples and all - when he had brought a Republican down a peg or two, or had some other victory.  
  
Margaret commented that our banter was the Josh and Donna version of foreplay. Sometimes, back in the full-dimples-after-slaughtering-Republicans day, I used to believe that. I used to know, more or less, where I fitted into Joshs life and where I fitted into this administration. I'm lost now, on both accounts. My role here was to keep Josh running - make sure he didn't piss off too many people, keep him organised and be there when he needed me. Well, Donnatella, I'm pretty sure you stuffed that up good and proper. Just like everything else..  
  
Donnatella...Josh used to always call that, usually when we were doing out little banter slash foreplay. I want that banter back - I crave it. I need him to bring the banter - I can't do it alone. I've tried so many times banter with him since he came back to work. He never responded. I should have known then that something was seriously wrong, but I just chalked it up to his way of dealing with everything. Why didn't I know that he was in trouble?  
  
Of all the things to stuff up - I mean 5 majors and 2 minors in two years was bad and Dr. Freeride was worse. But, damnit, this...this is the worst thing that could have possibly happened. Why did this have to happen? To Josh of all people. His spirit and passion - that fighting spirit and passion in things that I love about him - has all but left him. What is a Joshua Lyman without that spirit and passion? He is but a shell of the old Josh - the same exterior, but the inside has been damaged.  
  
Oh, how he has been damaged. Joanie, his father who he held on the highest pedestal, Leo's drugs and now being shot - how much more can that body take? Obviously, not much since he is putting his hand through glass windows.  
  
I want so much to help him. To hold him when the nightmares hit - to cry with him when it all gets too much. Instead, I stand back now and watch the man who captured my heart lose everything that makes him uniquely Josh. I can't take anymore. I refuse to watch him drift away before my eyes. But how can I help him, when I can't even help myself?  
  
How can I get him to fight to get out of this place he is in, when I can't even muster the energy to paste a smile, no matter how fake, on my face each morning?  
  
How can I get him to talk about it, when I can't handle hearing anything about it?  
  
And how can I get him to trust me, when I can't even trust myself to look him in the eye? 


End file.
